7 years later
by Preston101
Summary: Cal Hockley comes face to face with someone he thought he'd never see again. But does he have what Cal really wants?


It had been seven years. Seven years since the Titanic had sunk. Seven years since Cal Hockley had lost his diamond, his way out. So came the day, April 15th 1919, the anniversary of the sinking and the time for him to don his best tuxedo and play the grieving widower for the day.

He found himself searching the crowds as he stood at the podium giving a moving speech about the terrible loss of life that day had caused, as he always did at every ceremony that was held to commemorate the tragedy of the sinking ship – looking for her, looking for his diamond. Yet there was never any sign, never any sign of either.

Soon it was over; people were dispersing into the dining room for the meal that accompanied it. Strictly for those of class and standard – he would never expect any less. He spent the next few hours maintaining small talk with fellow survivors, some of whom he recognised others he did not, pretty much all offered their condolences for the loss of his fiancée, he failed to mention the fact he was now married, after all, it had been six years, well three months at the time of their engagement.

He was wandering through the halls of the grand estate, glass of brandy in his grasp and found himself leaving the populated areas and walked towards the back where there was a balcony that looked over the ocean. He was lighting a cigarette when he heard a voice.

"See out there, all the way over there?" He heard it ask and he turned to see a man in his early twenties stood against the balcony railing, his young son stood on top of them. Pointing with one hand, his other wrapped tightly around his child's waist so he wouldn't fall, he showed him the landmarks that the view had to offer. "That's the statue of Liberty,"

There was something about him that seemed sickeningly familiar, the way his smooth blonde hair shone in the light, the way his accent seemed so recognisable.  
"Can we go there someday?" He asked and his father lifted him up and sat him on the top rung. "We went there when you were a baby, you probably won't remember," The little boy shook his head.  
"Can we go though - now that you're home? You promised we could do anything I wanted!" He begged and the man laughed.

"So the bike wasn't enough?"  
He shook his head.  
"And going to see the lions at the zoo?"  
He shook his head.  
"Or the train set?"  
He shook his head.  
"The holiday to California?"  
He shook his head.  
"What if me and Mommy took you to the Statue of Liberty?"  
He nodded enthusiastically.

"I guess we're going to the Statue of Liberty," The man gave a fake sigh and then laughed. "And look quick you see that big boat?" He asked, lifting his child up further and pointing to the sea.  
"Yeah!" The child exclaimed. "Daddy, look at the pipes!"  
"They're the chimneys," He enlightened him. "The smoke that's coming out them is from the furnace room,"

"What's a furnace room?" He asked and he turned, for the first time allowing Cal to see his face. His hair was blonde like his Father's, but his eyes, his deep blue eyes seemed so familiar, yet distant.  
"It's where lots of coal's put into fires to make the ship go," His father replied and Cal moved a few steps further toward them trying to seem as though he wasn't watching them.  
"Like the coal you put on the fire?" The boy question as he was lifted into his Father's arms.  
"Yeah except there's a lot more," He answered, "And there's about fifty or sixty different fires,"

"That's a very big lot of fires," He stated and his dad laughed.  
"Well you need a lot of fires to power a boat that big, don't you, Charlie?"  
"Yep," He nodded.  
"Where do you think the boat's going?" The man asked, he turned, watching his son with amusement as he pondered the question, Cal finally seeing his face nearly dropped his glass of brandy.  
"Erm... Paris!" He grinned after a moment and his Father laughed.  
"That's my boy," He stated, ruffling his hair, turning his head away from his son, he finally caught sight of Cal and he nearly dropped his son.

"Impossible," Cal breathed as their eyes locked.  
"What's the matter, Daddy?" Charlie asked, confused as to why his father had frozen. "Who is it?"  
"Go play, son," Jack Dawson murmured, gently lowering him and pointing towards where some other children were playing on the lawn below. "Watch the steps," He waited until he had made his way to the bottom and was running to meet the other boys who were playing with a ball.

There was a moment of silence.  
"Nice speech," Jack acknowledged. "Biggest load of bollocks I've ever heard in my life,"  
"I didn't think you survived," Hockley noted, Jack shrugged, pulling a cigarette pouch from his pocket and lighting one before replacing it and turning his back to Hockley and leant against the railing as he watched the ship he and Charlie had noticed some minutes prior.  
"I knew you'd survived," He replied. "Anyway, I very nearly didn't," He replied, taking a drag and blowing it out. "So, what are you a cat? There were no more boats, I did wonder how did you get off?"  
"I caught the last one," He gave a laugh at the memory. "Found a child, claimed to be its father and caught a boat."

"You're surprised?" He asked, noticing Jack's look of distain.  
"No... just unaware to the levels of lowness you would sink to," He answered, simply.  
"It was every man for himself," Cal shrugged.  
"Was it Cal?" He snapped, his eyes filling with rage. "I am well aware that was how you saw it! Instead, though, I saw it as families torn apart, parents begging for their children to be saved, husbands saying good bye to their families! Thousands dying, some of whom could have been saved if people like you hadn't been too goddamn selfish and cowardly to be men and give someone else a chance of survival! Just be grateful you didn't go down with it like the rest of us,"  
"How long...?" He began but Jack answered him before he could finish.  
"An hour... maybe more? We weren't really keeping track of time, too preoccupied on y'know staying alive, trying to keep ourselves warm in the freezing water,"

"And my diamond?" He demanded, finally getting to the point of the conversation.  
"What diamond?" Jack replied, looking blank.  
"You know what diamond!" He spat, "My necklace!"  
"Oh we sold it when we landed, split it between some of the families, y'know $9,000,000 goes a long way between 14 or 15 families. Buys a lovely little house in New Jersey, right by the ocean, an art gallery – she always did love art - clothes, food, jewellery, pays for a wedding, a honeymoon, funds Christmas for the next eighteen years, ship tickets and hotels all around the world, enough art supplies to be coming out of your ears... even a car," He shrugged and Cal saw red, fury filled him as he lunged for Jack, but he moved to the side in time for him to evade the punch aimed at him. Cal himself tripped and nearly fell over the balcony but Jack caught him just in time, bringing his lips to his ear he whispered.  
"I never saw the goddamn thing you framed me for stealing it!" He pushed him backwards nearly making him fall over.

"You're lying! It was in my pocket in the coat on her!" He exclaimed, making the birds in the trees nearby soar.  
"You mean the coat that she was wearing when she went in?" He asked, Cal nodded.  
"The coat that was thrown over the side of the rowing boat that came back for us so she wasn't wearing as many layers of sodden clothing that was making her freeze to death?" He found his hands shaking with silent rage. "Despite what you believe Hockley, not all of us had money on our minds that night, I expect your precious diamond is resting on a seabed somewhere, with the bodies of those who died!"Cal noticed as he winced, clutching at his side before straightening up.

"Ypres," Jack explained as he noticed his eyes flicker with curiosity. "October 1918,"  
"You served?" Cal asked.  
"You didn't?" Then he laughed to himself. "Stupid question,"  
"I got myself a job in office," He explained, taking a drag from his cigarette.  
"I got myself a bullet to the hip," Jack answered, with a slight smile to his face.  
"You should get yourself some stature, Jack," Cal muttered.  
"I did," He replied with a grin. "You're lookin' at Corporal promoted to Seargant promoted to Lieutenant Dawson, war hero," Cal looked at him with shock, "My reaction, too... anyway it's nothing that a few months rest won't cure, if you worried," He added, winking at him.

He scoffed. "And may I enquire to the fate of my fiancée?" He asked turning and blowing a ring of smoke in his face. Jack looked at him, his expression darkening. "Rose died," He murmured and Cal failed to hide his shock.  
"H...how?" He stammered, expecting her to have been alive and well if Jack was.

"We were some of the last ones to go into the water," Jack sighed, "We managed to hold onto the stern of the ship as it went in... we struggled about in the water for a few minutes then a door floated past. She managed to get on it. It was so cold, you can't even begin to comprehend how cold it was it was like this fire that filled your lungs and you couldn't breathe." He let out an ironic laugh, lowering his head slightly at the memory; he'd never really spoken about it to anyone other than Rose, before continuing. "A boat came back, found us, I was so frozen to the door that two men had to rip me off it... she made it out of the water," He recalled, "Survived spending so long in water, we were told, it got to -11 degrees," Then he shook his head. "But it was too late... her organs were too cold to work properly, he body shut down on the boat back to America,"

There was silence.  
"There was never any Rose Dewitt Butaker recorded to have been found," Cal stated.  
"In her last breaths, she begged me not to let you find her," Jack averted his gaze out to his young son as he played with some other children on the lawn. "So I didn't, I walked away and she became an unidentified body – she became free,"

Cal laughed darkly. "Well was it worth it then? Staying together?"  
"Every second we have is worth it," Jack snapped, before quickly correcting himself. "I mean had,"  
"Dad, can we go now?" Came a voice and Charlie appeared at the top of the stairs. Jack stepped forward, nodding taking hold of this son's hand. "C'mon, Charlie," He murmured and they walked towards the door. "Say goodbye to Mr. Screable,"  
"Bye Mr. Screable," Charlie said, innocently.

It was only then that Cal noticed the appearance of Father and son. Jack's hair was slicked back and he looked similar to the night he had dined in first class on Titanic: he was wearing a tuxedo, minus the jacket, a good quality one as well; his shoes were of similar quality too. His shirt, although the sleeves were rolled up, the collar was unbuttoned and the bowtie undone, was white, crisp and looked brand new. His mind flashed back to the pouch he had brought his cigarettes out of, it had been leather with gold embroidery of the letters JD. His son was wearing boots of soft leather that fastened at the side with small brass clips they looked sturdy and fairly new, the brown still looking fresh as though they were polished every night. A heavy, expensive looking coat that fit him well covered his outfit, the collar of his shirt and the cuff of his jumper visible every now and then as either sleeve of collar moved slightly. His socks up to his knees had not been darned and were made of thick wool, his cap wasn't bobbled and his shorts were of good quality. In fact everything he wore looked well cared for, fit him well and was relatively new; a stark contrast to the children that other surviving third class passengers had brought with them. Both of them looked surprisingly first class.

Jack turned, holding the door open with one hand. "Cal, did you?" He asked.  
"Did I what?" He replied, his jaw set firmly.  
"Win?" He let out a laugh at Cal's expression before, walking with his son to the door. "Well you didn't either... we both lost what was most important to us that night,"  
"Daddy, can we go find Mommy now?" Charlie piped and Jack averted his eyes to him.  
"Sure, bud," He replied.

It then occurred to Cal the fact that Jack Dawson had a child, a child about five years old. A child born during 1914 at the latest, conceived in 1912 or 1913. Months after the titanic, only months after Rose's death.  
"Charlie!" He called and the little boy turned.  
"What's your Mother's name?" He asked, noticing the flash in Jack's face.  
"Rose," He replied, smiling happily for remembering it, but to Cal it all became clear.

Jack grabbed his son and sprinted through the door, bumping into people as he fled through the corridors, by the time Cal reached the house, there was no sign of Father or son only the sound of many people grumbling at the lack of respect of young men these days, they were gone and he was left to ponder the actual fate of his diamond.

* * *

**Love it? Hate it? Want to throw it into a bonfire. Let me know :D **


End file.
